“Read them,” I said. “You have till Friday to return everything you stole. The car. The savings. The house. Plus interest.”

She laughed once.

“Or what?” she said. “You’re going to sue your own mother?”

I leaned in until I could see the veins in her eyes.

“No,” I said. “I’m going to call the local paper. The one your garden club friends read.”

I told her I had the texts. The bank statements. The hospital records that showed Leo got pneumonia because the insurance was gone.

Her face went gray right there at the table.

“Friday,” I said. “Bring everything. Or I will bury you in the court of public opinion.”

She didn’t answer. She just stared at the papers.

We got the house back. The car. The money with interest.

Claire and I packed what we could and moved two states away.

Leo’s first birthday is next week. We are buying a house there.

We don’t talk to them.